


Another Marionette

by Fitestrum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: After cliff, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Nightmares, Someone Help Will Graham, Will lives with Hannibal, new dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28832874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitestrum/pseuds/Fitestrum
Summary: Hannibal's rejection of Will, in waiting for a new phoenix to rise. A deviant dimension.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 5





	Another Marionette

Bodies aren't meant to break like marionettes, because once they crumble coming back together requires the sinister. I watched myself in the mirror, as a strange audience with a curiosity. White and pale fingers snaked around me, into my hair pulling, gripping me, nails digging for change. They pulled until the cracking of my bones were like drums sounding, it was the breaking of the middle of me as I was pulled apart slowly. My strings came away, my exposed heart beating. Blood pooled at the edges of the mirror, bubbling and hot. The darkness was set on closing in, the light was dimming. Then the pale hands came once more, needle and string in hand sewing what they could back together. They pulled the strings that were embedded into my flesh, tightening until I was back together again, leaving a crooked line down my middle.  
  
I woke up abruptly, choking on stale woody air. The sheets were tight around me like a claustrophobic cocoon, and I fumbled to rip them away. The light came on, and I blindly stumbled past you in search of water. The bubbling liquid flowed into the glass. I felt sick because the air wasn't filling my lungs, and I choked the water down. I felt hands grip my shoulders tightly and guide me to a seat. When the lines had structure I could see your face once more, the picture of calm. Your hair was messy from sleep, Your sweater wrinkled slightly. I felt odd under your gaze.  
  
"I'm not in pieces Hannibal, that's the problem."

"The problem is that you survive?," you asked, wearing an expression of light incredulous.

"My problem is that survival is my instinct," I said stubbornly.

"Your eyes are sunken."

"I haven't slept in a while, I woke up and it was a blur."

"Have you been hallucinating?"  
  
"Is an hour sleep enough to avoid that?"  
  
Hannibal leant over to put his elbows on his knees. "These intrusive thoughts, they only keep you on the edge of madness because you allow yourself to feel guilt."

"Without guilt it's not madness?"  
  
"You imagine it as if it had no beginning."  
  
"People like me never begin," a pause. "Do we?" I looked into your eyes, looking for ground.  
  
You walked up to me, gaze penetrating and shoes stopping with a tap in front of me, you knelt down.  
  
"I'm not going to tell you what to do Will."  
  
"You know what I need." I shook the betrayal from my skin.  
  
"I know what you want," you said intently.  
  
I started shaking slightly. "Is twitchy the word you use in your mind to describe me?"   
  
"How would you describe yourself?"  
  
"There is no word," I said advertently, my hands grasped my sides.  
  
"Do you remember when Molly and yourself would hold each other Will? Is that what you did on dark nights?"  
  
"I would feel safe for a moment, then after a while normalcy felt like a sin."  
  
You walked over to pick up the blanket on the sofa, and wrapped in around me. I tugged the corners around myself like a child. "You mention my spoiled intimacy doctor," I said simply.  
  
Your eyebrow rose and I saw slight amusement in your eyes. You reached your fingers out slowly, stracing the scar on my cheek and then dropped your hand.   
  
"What are you but a phoenix Will? Your ashes are your beginning."  
  
"Destined to burn in the close?"  
  
"Destined to rise from your ashes anew."  
  
"Then we see things differently."  
  
"Ill not sweep your ashes away, and i'll not put out the flames," a pause. "Never mistake it for lack of attachment."  
  
You pulled my face closer breathing heavy, and placed our foreheads together. "I want you to burn Will." You hesitantly pressed your lips to mine. It sparked something inside of me, a need, and you pulled away swiftly. You gracefully rose to look down at me, and ran your hand through my hair before turning away, leaving me to return to my own room.  
  
A teacup shatters, the edges coming apart. White splinters sparkling against black floors like twilight. Time always reverses, and the teacup dares to come together.

**Author's Note:**

> A random short :)


End file.
